Treasure Trail
by An Artists Account
Summary: A letter hidden in the back of a secret book. An intriguing clue. A treasure hunt across England. When Rosa Robins finds an slip of parchment, hidden inside one of her books she could never guess the adventure that was about to begin. A secret note from a mysterious 'F' dated over four hundred years before is just the beginning... The secret is out No treasure is safe
1. Chapter 1

Treasure Trail

_Prologue..._

Once upon a time there was a handsome prince who lived in a grey stone castle with many towers reaching high into the sky with his two older brothers. Then, when he was about six years old, a new member of the family arrived, a little girl was born and they called her Rosa.

She was cheerful and bubbly and liked to sing, waving her fat, baby fists in the air. As she grew up she followed her brothers everywhere despite the fact that they, for the most part, tended to ignore her. She grew up tanned, freckled and happy.

She was, of course, me.

Ned wasn't a prince though, for all he stayed in a castle and learnt to fight dragons. His best friend Charlie and he were just ordinary students. He had even dated Dora Tonks for a while during his fifth year though they had parted amicably after only a few months.

Mum had one more child after me, Demelza, who was sweet and beautiful and the kindest person you could ever meet. I was six years old when she was born and I used to sit and hold her outside in the garden, and sing songs to her to make her laugh.

In turn, we each attended Hogwarts. The boys all at once, with only three years between them, and then me and finally Demelza quite a few years later. Between us, we made every house in school. I was sorted into Ravenclaw, with Ned and Demelza becoming Gryffindors. Liam, after quite some deliberation, became a Slytherin and Alec - A Hufflepuff. Our dad had been a Slytherin and mum, a Ravenclaw, so house rivalry had always rather been a moot point in our household.

At bedtime when I was young I always used to ask dad to tell me the story of how he and mum had met (at Hogwarts, though they didn't really get to know each other until the later years when their mutual love of quidditch drew them together). Perhaps it was insensitive of me, asking for the stories so soon after we lost mum, but the stories were my way of remembering her.

She died when I was seven, so I only have fleeting memories of her. Her warm smile, her laughter. Demelza doesn't remember her at all so I always tell her stories, embellishing them slightly every time to make up for the fact that I had her for seven years and she didn't have her at all.

Her death was hard on my father, who shut himself away in his study when the healer's told us that there was nothing more they could do, but harder on my brothers who were teenagers. I had youth and innocence to help me recover from the loss. They had each other.

The day my mother died, I was playing in the garden with Demelza and Ned as the bright August sun shone done on us. Ned and I were sat about three feet apart as Demelza toddled between us. She would take a few shuddering steps, then forget how to walk and throw herself forward, giggling madly, into our arms for a cuddle. Her centre of gravity wasn't completely there yet and though Ned and I were certain she could walk, she had yet to prove it.

Dad had walked into the garden and knelt down next to us, watching Demelza who toddled towards him and launched herself into his arms. I remember the way he held her, tightly, arms wrapped around her as she buried her face in his neck making satisfied baby noises. He had tugged at one of her curls, something he still did years later.

He had told us that mummy had gone to sleep, and that she wasn't able to wake up. He had begun to cry as he told us and I had scrambled over, ducking my head under his arm. Ned had shuffled over too and my dad had pulled us all close.

Liam and Alec had been playing quidditch with some friends in the paddock beyond our large garden so it just been the four of us, in the warm afternoon sunshine. I remember that very clearly; the sunshine. Perhaps the fact that it was sunny helped. There's something so hopeful about sunlight.

Quidditch was the great passion in my family. Some people like chess, or reading, or academics. We had quidditch.

All three of my brothers went on to play quidditch professionally after leaving school. Ned is the only one who stayed close to home. He plays for the Falmouth Falcons, the team dad owns. It's always interesting when their respective teams play each other, seeing that family rivalry I grew up with on the big pitch.

Because of my brother's rising fame, and to some extent my father's too (being the coach and manager, not to mention the owner as well, of the Falmouth Falcons does tend to make one rather well known), I tended to drift slightly into obscurity a little, and Demelza too. But of course Demelza was beautiful which made her infamous in her own right.

So I have decided to write down my story. Demelza pops up now and again and Ned too when he's not busy trying to break a few heads. But family aside, there are plenty of other characters in this tale that I think you should meet - Adam and Oliver play a much larger role than I would ever have thought, and Percy and Penelope march around a lot, head badges gleaming on their chests. There are several others as well, but I'll let you meet them when the time is right - I wouldn't want to rush things now would I?

So my story starts midway through August, 1993, the summer before I was going back to Hogwarts for my seventh and final year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry.


	2. Chapter 2

Part one

AUGUST

_Chapter one..._

"But you have to come and see it, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and-"

"It's a broomstick, not an orphan Ro," Karen laughed at my crest-fallen expression. "But by all means lets go and see this miracle of modern design."

Quality Quidditch Supplies was completely packed with a mixture of Hogwarts students and older witches and wizards, all gawking through the glass case at the best broomstick in the wizarding world.

The Firebolt was sleek and shiny. Not a single twig was out of place. It was my dream broom, not that I'd ever ride one.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" The proprietor of the shop told the crowd. That didn't surprise me. The Irish were one of the best quidditch teams in the world.

"Oh dad, oh dad please, PLEASE!" A small child, sat on his father's shoulders, was pulling at his ears. His father looked like he really badly wanted to say yes but sighed and shook his head. The little boy looked ready to cry.

Near the front of the crowd a smallish, skinny boy with dark hair was staring at the Firebolt with a look of such longing on his face that I almost laughed. He looked exactly like Ned when he had first seen the Nimbus2000 for the first time.

I grabbed Karen's hand and pulled her forwards, elbowing my way through the crowd.

_THE FIREBOLT _

_This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined, super-fine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected birch twig in the broom tail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving The Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of 0-150 miles an hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable braking charm. Price on request. _

"It's exactly like I would have drawn it." I whispered to Karen. "Ash makes it lightweight and yet heavy enough to fly straight even in a cross-wind and the Unbreakable Braking charm will give seekers more security when pulling out of steep dives. That's one of the Cleansweep's biggest problems," I said, knowledgeably, "The breaking charms begin to wear off after a few years making diving more difficult."

Karen shook her head at me and began to tug me towards the door saying: "Come on, we've got books to buy."

I whispered: "I'll be back," to The Firebolt and let her drag me out of the shop.

...

"That's what I want to do," I said, a couple of hours later, around a mouthful of raspberry ripple ice-cream, "I want to design racing brooms."

"Well you are good at it." Karen said, heaving her bag over her shoulder and trying not to dislodge the many books stuffed inside. "If History of Magic was anything to go by. You got a lot of practice doodling when you were supposed to be studying for owls."

We both laughed as we rounded the corner and stepped inside Dervish and Bangs, the wizarding equipment shop.

I was perusing colour-changing ink and self-spelling quills while Karen picked up parchment when someone came up behind me and jabbed me in the sides with their fingers. I jumped about four feet in the air and dropped the bottle of ink I had been holding.

Oliver Wood, because of course it was he, caught with all the dexterity of the keeper he was and presented it to me with a grin. I took it from him and placed it carefully back down on the shelf I had removed it from and then leaned forwards and gave him a hug.

"Hey Oliver, how are you?"

He gave me a powerful squeeze that almost lifted me off my feet. I batted at his arm. "Can't breathe," I gasped.

"Have you seen the Firebolt yet?" He said without preamble. "Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've seen? I've been the Diagon Alley four times this summer just to see it and-"

"Don't get her started Oliver, she's been waxing lyrical about that bloody broom all morning." Karen had wandered over, her parchment and newly purchased quill under her arm. She smiled at Oliver who grinned back, though he didn't hug her.

For my whole life, I have been the sort of person everyone brings their problems too. Being a generally cheerful sort of chap I tend to end up listening to everyone's problems. It's like I've got some sort of freak accio charm on me. I only have to be in a room for five minutes before complete strangers start telling me all about their broken arm or their quill collection or whatever.

I don't mind. I'm good at sorting out people's problems. And I like being friendly. I guess the only surprising thing is that I wasn't put into Hufflepuff. The Sorting Hat did consider me for it, but in the end we decided on Ravenclaw. Perhaps it thought I was cleverer than I was kind. I didn't know, but mum had been in Ravenclaw so I was happy.

Being the sort of person who is everyone's confidant tends to make you friends with everyone too. And that suited me just fine.

Despite the sunlight pouring down between the buildings, people were hurrying about with worried expression on their faces. I caught snatches of their conversations as we passed them.

"-the Ministry still haven't caught him, bunch of blibbering halfwits the whole lot of them-"

"-I'm not letting any of the children out to play until he's safely back in Azkaban-"

"-thir'een people, I still can' believe it, he must 'ave been mad-"

Posters had been pasted onto the walls of the buildings we were passing. A man with matted, shoulder length hair was staring out.

"Scary looking guy isn't he?" Oliver whispered as we passed the poster. I nodded.

"He's been all over the prophet all summer," Karen added, "Mum almost didn't let me come here on my own."

"I know, I was going to bring Demelza to get her wand and all her school stuff but Dad insisted he came. I'm meeting up with them in," I checked my watch, "half an hour at Flourish and Blotts."

The three of us headed towards the apothecary's so Karen could stock up on potion ingredients. The shop smelt terrible as we entered and I amused myself with reading the browning labels tied to the many jars as Karen, her school list in hand, talked to the proprietor of the shop about the price of black beetles and dead spiders.

Neither Oliver nor I take N.E.W.T level potions. Oliver, I should imagine, because he mainly wants to focus on Quidditch, and I because, despite being a Ravenclaw, do not have a head for potions. I absentmindedly traced a broomstick in a patch of dust on a shelf holding pickled dragon liver. Oliver was messing around with an old set of bronze scales that creaked loudly as he poked it.

The man at the counter shot him a nasty look.

"So," I smiled at him, "How do you fancy Gryffindor's chances for the quidditch cup this year?" As suspected, he broke into a grin at the mention of his favourite subject.

"We're going to win this year, I know we are!" He had a fervent expression, closely bordering on obsessive and I tried hard not to smile, his almost manic enthusiasm was contagious.

We discussed the house teams until Karen joined us, tucking her purchases into her bag. We set off up the street and split up at the Leaky Cauldron, me to Flourish and Blotts, Karen to floo back home and Oliver to meet his parents.

Demelza had an armful of books when I entered the shop. She beamed at me and raced over to me.

"Hey Ro, I've got my wand! Ash with a unicorn tail hair," She proudly held it up for me to see and almost dropped the stack of books. I took them from her and tucked them under my arm as she grabbed my free hand and pulled me towards the centre of the shop where dad and an assistant were standing in front of the counter.

"Have you got everything?"

"Um..."

I pulled the book list out of her unresisting fingers and scanned down it, checking the titles on the spines of the books as I went.

"One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore please," I told the assistant. He nodded and walked over to a set of shelves in the Herbology section.

"Have you got everything else on the list?"

Demelza nodded enthusiastically. "I've checked at least a dozen times. I'm sure we've got it all."

"Good," I said, "Now then, go and choose yourself a book. There's fiction over there or non-fiction as you prefer. My treat."

Demelza scampered off and came back clutching a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages. I set it onto the counter with the rest of her school books as dad passed me a stack of galleons.

"Can you get these for me?" He asked, then added in a whisper: "I want to take Mel to get an owl."

"Sure," I grinned.

Dad took Demelza by the hand and led her out of the shop.

"Is there anything else?" I jumped slightly as the young assistant set One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi onto the counter.

"Er, no, I think that's everything." I was about to pull out the gold when inspiration struck, "Actually no, can I just go and grab something quickly?"

"Of course," He flashed a smile at me.

I wandered over to the Quidditch section and traced my finger along the spines until I found The Holy Head Harpies: Most Glorious Victories and pulled it from the shelf. Demelza would like that.

Behind the book was another, wedged in sideways against the back of the shelf. I pulled out a few more books and slid the hidden one out, then replaced the books. It was small and slim, bound in red leather. It had clearly been put back in the wrong place and forgotten about.

I was about to but it down when something stopped me. Without knowing why, I put it on top of the Harpies book and paid for it at the checkout with everything else. I dropped all of Demelza's school textbooks into her cauldron but the little red book I tucked it into my bag with the rest of my own purchases.


End file.
